On the prairies, the sky is so big that it swallows you up. Stretching from your left shoulder to your right. Wide open spaces, standing in the expanse of a Dixie Chicks song. It keeps you humble, a constant reminder that your life is small. Last night I looked up at the stars for the first time in months. I hung my head back and found the big dipper, tried to count the pin pricks of light. I breathed in campfire smoke and tasted marshmallows and thought a little bit about my own smallness. In this city walled in by mountains and buildings and trees and clouds, convinced of its own significance, it’s good to be reminded.